The monsters let Sam and I out long enough to visit the North East Teenage Book Awards last night where Sam’s brilliant book, The Black Tattoo, had been shortlisted for the prize.  The other nominees were:

Broken Soup by Jenny Valentine

Angel by Cliff McNish

The Knife That Killed Me by Anthony McGowan

The Falconer’s Knot by Mary Hoffman

Slam by Nick Hornby

Sam was, as ever, as excited as a jet-powered puppy to meet all his fans and while he chatted with the other nominees, I stayed at the back of the hall, ready to activate the fire alarm should any monsters decide to add the north east’s eager young readers to their collection.

The event started and Sam kicked off proceedings with a reading from The Black Tattoo, and then answering an inspired audience question about tying up loose plot ends at the close of a book.  The other authors followed to talk, read and answer questions themselves.

Eventually – the winner was announced as Broken Soup by Jenny Valentine and the authors took their places at the signing table to meet and greet their readers.  It really was incredible to see so many teenagers, many of them carrying well-thumbed, ragged copies of their favourite books, queuing up to meet the writers and chat.  The air was buzzing with debates over characters, plots, twists and more!

Sam’s queue was the last to end and, after a brief chat with Anthony McGowan (we think we have persuaded him to come and check on us in the cave every now and again) we repaired to a local hostelry for refreshment.  This, however, didn’t go quite as planned and we soon found ourselves in a darkened tunnel, running from our monstrous captors – see the picture below!

More on that part of the evening, soon…

The lovely folks at Radio Cambyshire (right in the heart of cheese-snorkling country) have broadcast a report about the eight of us trapped by the monsters. You can hear the piece by clicking play on the ultra modern, web-fangled audio doobry below:

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

If, by some chance, the player doesn’t show up in your browser, you can right click on this link and download the MP3 file to your hard drive and listen to it that way…

Trapped By Monsters on Radio Cambyshire

Let’s just hope it brings us some help – and soon!

While browsing the monsters’ bookshelves, I came across another novel written by one of our captive number – Jimmy Coates: Power by Joe Craig.  Now, I’ve long been a fan of the incredible Master Coates, so I was eagerly anticipating his latest outing – and let me tell you that Power is exactly the right title for our hero’s sixth adventure, because this book has it in spades!

From the spine-tingling opening where we find Jimmy trying to spread the truth about the government through what is almost certainly the most exciting action sequence a book has ever seen (I won’t give anything away, suffice to say it involves helicopters and a very long bandage!) and beyond, this book will have you gripped, page after page. Bomb plots, stolen TV broadcasts and double-crosses galore – this novel has them all!

I know there’s another Coates book on the way soon – Jimmy Coates: Blackout in April – followed by the final adventure in October.  I just hope the monsters are letting Joe work on them.  I don’t want to have to wait any longer than absolutely necessary for my next adreniline top-up!

The good news, first. To my utter amazement and glee and delight The Black Tattoo has been shortlisted for another prize here in the UK, namely the North East Teenage Book Award. As you’ll see if you hit the link, the other titles in the running are:

BROKEN SOUP, by Jenny Valentine

ANGEL, by Cliff McNish

THE FALCONER’S KNOT, by Mary Hoffman

SLAM, by Nick Hornby

-and my personal favourite-

THE KNIFE THAT KILLED ME, by Anthony McGowan.

This award is such a big deal that the monsters have grudgingly granted both Tommy AND myself permission to leave the cave to attend Friday’s presentation ceremony. However, any faint hope that we might use this as an opportunity to escape was quickly crushed by our captors.

To stop us working out exactly where we’re being held, Tommy and I will be blindfolded before being stuffed into the spare tyre compartments of two separate unmarked vans and whisked to our destination, Newcastle.

Worse yet, today we were both injected with a slow-acting poison of the monsters’ own fiendish devising. We will receive the antidote only when we return to the secret pick-up point after the party, exactly as we’ve been instructed. If we do not, and the potion is allowed to run its course, sensitive parts of our anatomies (very sensitive parts, let’s just say) will begin to turn black, swell up painfully, then explode.

Finally, as if all of that wasn’t enough, the monsters have been making dire threats about what might happen to our loved ones at home should Tommy and I even try to ask anyone for help. For the last few days we’ve been forced to wear identical t-shirts with the following simple, chilling message:

‘Nice,’ I said weakly, when I first saw them. ‘Where did you get those?’

‘Here,’ grunted the nearest monster, before noisily blowing his nose on my last clean pair of boxer shorts.

It’s going to be a long couple of days.

Although my own horror series, Invisible Fiends, doesn’t start  coming out until Feb 2010, I’ve got a few new books sneaking onto the shelves this year.

Of all of them, my favourites are the Ben 10 stories I’ve written for Egmont.  Book 1 is already out.  Book 3 and Book 4 will be out in May, and have just become available to pre-order on Amazon.  Book 2 was written by the excellent Glenn Dakin, who we shall be hearing much more of in 2009 …

Sticking with book recommendations, I recently read I Am Legend by Richard Matheson for the first time.  It’s a great book for adults and older children alike – very different to the film (and also much better).  Well worth a read.

I loaned it to one of the monsters here – Grunty Brushthrapp of Ing – and he loved it.  In fact, he devoured the whole thing from cover to cover.  Literally.

He says he’ll give me it back when it has passed through his digestive tract, but I’ve told him he can keep it.

My pen’s run out and the monster guarding my door today – Euphetania Poobracket – says she’ll only get me a new one if I tell her a story.  *Sigh*

So, here’s another tale from Scream Street – Clear And Present Danger…

—

“Happy birthday, Uncle Otto…” sang the thin, ginger-haired man.

“Sir Otto!”

“Sorry.  Happy birthday, Sir Uncle Otto…  Happy birthday to you!”

Sir Otto Sneer, the landlord of Scream Street, removed the fat cigar from his mouth just long enough to blow out the single candle on his cake.  “There!” he snapped.  “Now can I go?”

“Not yet,” grinned Dixon, his nephew.  “Party games first!”

Sir Otto’s face flushed a deep purple.  “Party games?”

“Yep!” giggled Dixon.  “Pass the parcel!”  He grabbed a hastily wrapped box and pressed PLAY on the CD player.  Loud zombie rock music blared out.

“Get on with it!” grumbled Sir Otto.

Dixon handed the parcel to his uncle, then stopped the CD.  “You win!”

Muttering impatiently, Sir Otto slammed the box onto the table. As he tore at the wrapping paper, something inside the parcel began to screech and thrash about.

Sir Otto dropped it hastily.  “Dixon…” he growled.  “What did you get me?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure at first, so I asked everyone in Scream Street…”

“You asked the freaks for advice on my birthday present?” bellowed the landlord.

Dixon nodded and there was a sound like running water as his body began to transform.  Sir Otto knew that his nephew was a shapeshifter, but it still freaked him out to watch.

Within seconds, Dixon had taken the shape of Egyptian mummy, Niles Farr.  “What you should get…”

Another ripple and he changed into a bog monster.  “…is something he’ll never forget…”

Finally, the landlord’s nephew became Eefa Everwell, the witch who ran the local store.  “…and I have just the thing!”

The present exploded as a squawking bundle of black feathers burst from the box.  Sir Otto screamed and grabbed the creature, holding it at arm’s length.  A red bill with sharp fangs snapped in his face.  “You got me a vampire duck?!”

Dixon shifted back to his own shape and beamed.  “Say hello to Count Quackula!”

Dragon Orb Book 1

As the monsters have been stood over me for more than a week now watching to see that I finish Dragon Orb: Aurora by the end of the month, there’s not been time for much else. But Blusterfart the Unsteady (as I’ve dubbed him) came in this morning, pointed at the computer and, in a spray of dribble, spat ‘Blog, Wobson, blog!’

So I thought I’d give you a boredom buster to look at. The monsters should like this. Here’s a game you can play that’s tied in with my new Dragon Orb series. Fly a dragon! Blast catapults with your dragon’s fiery breath. (*Shhh! And other dragons, too*) Register any score with a name and email address and you will be entered into a draw to win a copy of Dragon Orb: Shadow. Complete the final level (and remember to register your score) and be entered into a draw to win a Nintendo Wii Console!!! Your email address will not be passed on to any third parties. When the competition ends in March, you will be sent one email with the names of the winners and then your email address will be wiped from the database.

Dragon Orb: Book 2

You can play the game as many times as you like. It’s FREE. Once you have registered one score, you are in the draw. By all means register more scores, but it will not increase your chances of winning a book. Each person can be entered for both draws, but will only be entered once for each.

Be warned – it’s not easy! Very few have made it to the end, so if you get there, your chances of winning the Wii Console are good. Best of luck. DRAGON ORB: THE GREAT QUEST

Edit:  Link now working again!

Anyone who’s read my books knows that I enjoy a good zombie romp as much as the next guy.  The trouble is, there’s nothing really new you can do with the stumbling, brain-munching creatures of the undead that hasn’t already been seen before – or so I thought until I stumbled across an exciting new book, due for publication in June – Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

Oh, how I wish I’d thought of that!

The official write-up for the book reads:

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies features the original text of Jane Austen’s beloved novel with all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie action.

As our story opens, a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton—and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she’s soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy.

What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers—and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead.

Complete with 20 illustrations in the style of C. E. Brock (the original illustrator of Pride and Prejudice), this insanely funny expanded edition will introduce Jane Austen’s classic novel to new legions of fans.

I hope the monsters have pre-ordered a copy for the cave…

You know how it is, when you have to live on damp loo and troll scratchings..? Even though the nutritional content of all the mushy stuff we’re getting is apparently quite good (the itchy bumps on my ankles have cleared up nicely at any rate) I have found myself getting feverish about drive-thru junk food. Day and night, burgers and fried chicken and stringy little chips float around me…. aaaaaaahhh.

I have had to write another poem. Sorry.

KFC FEVER

I must go down KFC again, to the lonely bloke at the fry

And all I ask is a Bargain Bucket and a dangerously hot apple pie

And an MSG kick and that grease pong and the pale thighs frizzling

And a few spots on a hot face and a thick shake drizzling

I must go down KFC again, for the call of a Crispy Strip

Is a wild call and hot call, that I’ll not deny my lip

And all I ask is a table top and a plastic seat unsticky

And the flung spray of tomato sauce, upon my fingers, licky

I must go down KFC again, to the fragrant, chipsy scene

To the joyous sob of a full gob, and a chin with an oily sheen

And all I bid is a ketchup skid from a laughing fellow diner

And the loud munch of a cheap lunch from a chubby two-year-old whiner

I must go down KFC again, to the hiss and the sigh of the fat

And all I ask is a nice taste and no obvious evidence of rat

And that faint disdain when you snag a vein, but you’re well past caring,

And a plastic lid being flipped by a kid, and a scary hoodie staring…

I’ve been trying to get inside the minds of our captors. But it looks like they’ve been getting inside ours as well! Every word we’ve written has been entered in a monstrous database, and they’ve built up a complete psychological profile of the group of authors in here.

But I’ve stolen it! Here it is: